Geeks with Bats
by trashysexsonnet
Summary: Graveyard vs. Dayshift: the annual softball game. Complete.


**Geeks with Bats**: It's time for the annual graveyard vs. dayshift softball game.

Notes: A very, very special thank you to my best beta, Emma, who managed to connect the story to the final line last night at midnight. I spent a whole week banging my head against the keyboard trying to get it, and she whipped something out in about 2 minutes flat. Now that's talent. ;)

Inspired by Grissom's passing line to Ecklie about Graveyard beating Dayshift in last summer's softball game. The word count went to hell. I was just having too much fun.

Lines provided: **"She gasped as the marshmallow hit her nose."** (Yes, I changed "She" to "Sara" because it was bugging me to no end) and **"Smirking back, Sara replied, "Isn't that _your_ problem?" **

**Edited: 9/13/05**. Thanks to lalaforte for pointing out that softball games have only seven innings. I never would have known. ;)

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Sara gasped as the marshmallow hit her nose."Hey! Interference!" she yelped, waving her baseball bat in the air."I call foul!"

"Hey, _I'm_ the one who calls fouls," groused Brass, his voice muffled by an umpire mask. "And that was still a strike, Sidle."

"Oh come on! She threw a marshmallow at me!" Sara turned to the stands and waved a fist at the petite blonde girl who had hurled the offending sweet. Lindsey Willows laughed and blew a raspberry in return. "You swing like a monkey!" she hollered, much to the amusement of Sara's teammates in the dugout.

"Girl's got a point!" Warrick offered, taking a swig of Gatorade.

"I'll show _you_ a point, you don't shut your mouth…"

"Whoo!" Nick clapped Warrick soundly on the back and shook his head. "It was nice knowing you, buddy. Can I have your CDs?"

Standing impatiently on the pitcher's mound, Conrad Ecklie rolled his eyes and pounded his fist into his glove. "Can we _please_ get back to the game?"

With one last warning glare at her teammates, Sara repositioned herself at home plate, wiggling her backside back and forth as she angled the bat. Assuming that he was relatively safe in the cage of the dugout, Greg Sanders let out a loud wolf whistle. "Shake it, girl!"

Sara spun around to flip off the DNA tech as the ball sailed past her and into Brass' glove.

"Steeeee-rike three! She's out!" Cheers erupted from the field as Team Dayshift jogged back to their dugout. Sara rounded on Brass, waving the bat threateningly. Grissom came up behind her and pried the potential weapon from her hands.

"Hey, don't blame the umpire! It's not his fault you're easily distracted."

Sara pulled off her helmet and stuck her tongue out at her supervisor. Her hair was sticking up every which way and her face was turning pink from the sun. Grissom couldn't help but laugh.

"Here. Your nose is turning red." He took off his baseball cap and settled it onto her head. "Now go play left field."

"Agaaain? Why can't I be shortstop?"

"Warrick's shortstop."

"He's always shortstop!"

"He pays attention to the game!"

"Oh, ouch!" Hand over her heart, Sara mock-stumbled away from Grissom as the rest of the graveyard shift took the field. Grissom watched her trot away with a happy smile. It was a hot July afternoon, perfect weather for the annual Graveyard vs. Dayshift softball game, which was probably the only departmental gathering that he ever looked forward to. As much as he enjoyed watching baseball, nothing could compare to actually playing, even if your teammates had a tendency to dance goofily around their base (Greg) or complain of hat hair (Catherine).

Team Graveyard took their positions. Grissom was pitching (naturally), Greg was on first and Catherine was on second, Warrick had shortstop, and Nick was on third. Sara, Archie and David composed left, center and right field. Due to a shortage of players, Brass was doubling up as umpire and catcher for both teams. In the stands a motley crowd of scientists, cops, administrators and family cheered the two teams on and hurled playful insults and bits of food at the less talented players.

The game was only in the second inning and graveyard was kicking butt, thanks in part to a spectacular double play executed by Nick and Warrick in the second inning. Grissom grinned as he watched Ecklie approach home plate and take a few menacing practice swings. The dayshift supervisor was not taking graveyard's early lead well.

"Okay everyone!" Grissom turned to his team and gave an exaggeratred wave of his arm. "Move in!" There was a smattering of laughter as Team Graveyard took several giant steps forward. Ecklie rolled his eyes and lifted his bat into place.

"Just throw the ball, Gil." Grissom shrugged and obliged. For a self-professed science nerd, he threw a pretty decent strike. The first ball whizzed effortlessly past Ecklie.

"Steeeeee-rike one!" Brass shouted gleefully.

Ecklie gave a disgusted sigh and stabbed the dirt with his bat. "Jim, do you have to yell like that?"

"Just doing my job, Conrad!" Brass lobbed the ball back to Grissom. Ecklie swung hard and managed to hit the second pitch. The ball sailed over Grissom's head and fell neatly into the glove of Catherine Willows.

Warrick whistled. "Nice catch!"

Catherine took an elaborate bow and high-fived Greg, who wore his baseball cap sideways over his spiky hair.

"Damn!" he said appreciatively. "She solves crime, she dances _and_ she plays baseball! Marry me?"

"In your dreams, Greggo."

Grissom scrutinized the field as he waited for the next dayshift CSI to take the plate. "Sara! What are you doing?"

Sara looked up from left field and dropped the string of daisies she had been piecing together. "Nothing!"

"Was that a daisy chain?"

"…no!"

"Because if it was, and if we lose you missed the ball, then I'm going to require that you wear it to work tonight!"

Sara's response was a rude hand gesture, but Grissom could hear her laughing as he turned back to the game. Five innings passed quickly, and though Team Dayshift managed several runs, placing them only two runs behind, Grissom wasn't too worried. And then, in the top of the seventh, the unthinkable happened: Peterson, a lab rat from days, hit a home run with a man on first, tying the score.

Bottom of the seventh. Grissom was first at bat. He bunted and sprinted to first as Ecklie tripped over his own feet scrambling for the ball. Nick struck out, mostly because he couldn't stop laughing at Ecklie, who was now covered in dirt and somewhat less amused. Sara walked, Greg struck out and Warrick hit a single.

It was the ultimate baseball cliché: bottom of the inning, bases loaded, score tied, and Catherine Willows at bat. No one was really all that surprised when she hit a grand slam. Anything less just wasn't her style.

Team Graveyard erupted into shrieks and cheers. Catherine ran her victory lap around the bases hand in hand with Lindsey. Warrick and Nick body slammed each other with cries of "That's what I'm _talkin'_ about!" Greg threw his hat into the air and ran around the field, whooping and hugging whoever got in his way. Ecklie trudged to the stands and very reluctantly handed Doc Robbins one hundred dollars. And with a goofy grin, Grissom scooped Sara up by the waist and spun her around. His hat flew from her head and when he put her down her face had flushed even pinker.

"What was that for?" she shouted over the victorious shouts of her teammates.

"We won!"

"But I sucked! You should be hugging Catherine!"

"Oh, I think she's getting enough attention."

Sara laughed as Catherine was hoisted onto Warrick and Nick's shoulders and paraded past Ecklie, who looked as though he would fire them on the spot if he could.

"So the Great Sara Sidle doesn't do baseball," Grissom pronounced with a smirk. Sara raised a single eyebrow and he prodded her playfully with his elbow.

"What, don't play well with others?"

Smirking back, Sara replied, "Isn't that _your _problem?"


End file.
